


Pretty Enemies

by RaspberryHeaven



Category: Jem and the Holograms
Genre: Betrayal, F/F, Femslash, Period-Typical Homophobia, Revenge Seduction, Revenge Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 21:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7773607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaspberryHeaven/pseuds/RaspberryHeaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kimber is getting married. Eric is a bastard. And Stormer is tired of losing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pretty Enemies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



“So, she let you lick her pussy yet?”

Stormer freezes, her hand on the doorknob. She closes her eyes, gulps, but she can’t get rid of the feeling she is swallowing Eric’s words, that they are slipping down her throat into her insides, coating her most precious, secret thoughts and feelings with slime.

“I thought not. You’ve got the wrong sister there, Stormer.” Eric sniggers to himself like a cartoon bad guy. Stormer never realized until this moment how much she hates his laugh. “Jerrica’s the frigid bitch that doesn’t mind if her little boyfriend screws Jem as long as she doesn’t have to. Maybe she’s a dyke, or believe me, I would have married her by now. Kimber, though, she’s all about sucking dick. Believe me, I know.”

He doesn’t know, Stormer tells herself, breathing deeply. He’s lying to hurt her. He will say anything to keep control of her, to stop the best songwriter leaving his precious cash cow Misfits.

“Come on, Stormer, come back. I can give you whatever you need.” His voice is caressing now. “If Clash isn’t your type, there are other groupies.”

Just open the door, Stormer tells herself. Just open the door.

Her hand closes on the handle and pushes down, the door of her manager opens and closes behind her, and she’s free. For the moment.

* * *

“It’s beautiful, Stormer! I never knew you could write something so deep and moving. You can write so much better than that Misfits nonsense.” Kimber’s voice is warm, and so is the hand that closes over Stormer’s hand.

Blood rushes to Stormer’s cheeks. She wrenches her hand away.

“Are you saying my other songs are rubbish?”

“What? Stormer, no—I meant—I meant you’re just so much better than—I...”

Stormer is a Misfit when she needs to be. She pushes over the table with a satisfying crash, storms out and slams the door with another.

She's also the soft one. Later, there is a reconciliation, and she lets Kimber apologise and hug her. The embrace is warm, and sends tingles down Stormer's spine and between her legs. So what? So Stormer is filthy, sleazy, but it's not like anyone has to know. Eric is just guessing. Kimber is her friend and loves her, and that love is ointment to her bruised soul, and she will take what embraces--and tingles--she can get.

* * *

It’s a pleasure to accept Jerrica's offer, join forces with Starlight and betray Eric. He’s dragged Stormer into his stupid war with Jerrica often enough. He was the one who causes her to blush when Kimber innocently holds her hand, his dirty mind was what spoiled everything. Stormer is determined he will never, ever get Starlight Music in return. Or anything else he wants, if she can help it. 

_Has she let you lick her pussy yet?_

She hugs Kimber, holds hands with her, promotes the album with just the right hint of ambiguous lesbian chic, but she’s all too aware that if she goes too far, becomes too genuine, Jerrica’s sisterly kindness towards her will turn to implacable hatred. And Kimber—

Kimber will despise her. She will have nothing. No Misfits, no friends, no _Kimber and Stormer._

She doesn’t even let herself dream of anything but a number one record.

* * *

“It’s true. You don’t need me, Jerrica. But _they_ do.” 

She waits just a moment for Kimber to say _**I** need you, Stormer!_

To give her a chance to choose Kimber over her old band.

Of course it never happens. Stormer goes back to the Misfits.

Eric smiles at her like an alligator when she signs her new contract--better terms, especially for songwriting royalties, she's not that stupid twice. “What did I tell you, Stormer? Dick sucker all the way.”

Stormer looks meekly into his face, and swears once again to herself that he will never, ever have Starlight Music. That at least she can keep from him.

* * *

Kimber doesn’t invite Stormer to her wedding. Stormer figures Jerrica probably prudently decided that Misfit trash at the wedding, particularly an ambiguously too-close ex-friend of Kimber, were too much of an organizational hazard. She spent enough time with the Holograms to know that pretty, sweet Jerrica plays the tune, and even Jem dances to it. Except when it comes to boyfriends. Or maybe Eric forestalled the invitation, or Pizzazz. It doesn't matter. Kimber, after being all over the tabloids with one boy, is now marrying another. 

Stormer goes anyway. Scarf wrapped around her too-noticeable blue hair, garish makeup missing, large framed sunglasses on. She sees Jem among the guests, and seats herself behind her. Jem had seemed oddly remote when the girls were working on _Back to Back _, not hostile but barely present, but they have clashed so often as bands, and there’s no sense risking a confrontation.__

Jerrica is maid of honour, the Kimber's foster sisters are bridesmaids. It seems odd that Jem is the only band member not in the bridal party, as if she is somehow out of her own group. The sisters look beautiful, and innocent as daisies. Kimber makes a beautiful bride. Stormer has lost nothing. It’s not like she could ever be Stormer’s bride, anyway. 

_Kimber’s all about sucking dick._

But she can’t blame Kimber, she can’t. Not Kimber in her white dress, roses in her hair above hair misted by her veil. So pretty, so innocent, so sweet. Made for love. 

As Jem rises to sing and Kimber walks down the aisle, Stormer is dazzled. She looks anywhere but at Kimber, and her eyes fall on Jerrica. Competent, sisterly Jerrica, who runs Starlight Music just like Eric, and controlled Kimber until she ran away—and was forced to come crawling back for help. Jerrica’s hair is golden, and the pink dress gives her cheeks a rosebud bloom independent of blusher. Another Benton angel.

_Maybe she’s a dyke, or believe me, I would have married her by now._

There had been real bitterness in his tone. And Eric's hangup about Starlight Music is pretty strange. After all, there are other music companies.

She watches it all, watches Kimber discard her groom at the altar when another, more glamorous groom sends a proposal by proxy. The groom seems almost relieved to have escaped. Kimber rushes off to her new--old?--love, leaving the wedding in disarray, and Stormer knows she has to flee before the paparazzi recognize her, or risk Pizzazz's wrath.

She’s not sure if she is more angry with Kimber, or Eric, or Jerrica. She does know she still has Jerrica’s number, and that Jerrica wants to see herself as the woman who will always come to the help of a woman in tears and offer her hugs and sympathy. Even a woman who is an enemy as well as a friend.

_Especially if she thinks the woman has been hurt by her own worst enemy._

Stormer books herself into the hotel, and makes the call. It’s not all that difficult to make herself cry.

* * *

From the way Jerrica drags her breath in through her throat and twists her hipswhen Stormer thrusts her fingers, she's a virgin. Was a virgin. 

She almost wants to apologise. Instead she hooks her fingers forward against Jerrica’s inner wall, makes her shriek and thrust against her. Jerrica is willing, so willing. It was so easy to turn comforting embraces into this. A soft, tearful, hesitant kiss, fingers trailed down a slender neck to cup a breast, Jerrica naked and sliding half off the bed as she's fucked./p>

_So, she let you lick her pussy yet?_

Stormer lowers her head. Jerrica’s clitoris tastes salty and sweaty and throbs against her tongue. The taste of Kimber’s sister. Stormer thrusts her fingers hard and hard again and again, sucking Jerrica's clitoris as she fucks her as deeply as she can manage, and Jerrica comes with a long shudder and a surprised squeak, sobbing. 

Stormer pulls out her fingers and looks up. Jerrica is arched and trembling, her face red, her sweaty hair tangled, none of the competent businesswoman lef about hert. When Stormer pulls her fingers out, the soft walls of Jerrica’s labia, furred with golden hair, close, as if that hole had never been there, but the hair is matted with wetness. Stormer’s own vagina is wet and throbbing and unfulfilled. Jerrica isn’t the only virgin on the bed.

“Stormer—Mary—“

“Stormer. I never gave you permission to call me Mary.”

Jerrica begins to cry. “Oh, Stormer, what have we done? What will I tell Rio?” She reaches her arms out to be cuddled and comforted.

“What will I tell Kimber?” Stormer says, her voice husky.

“Kimber? Oh, no…” Jerrica turns her head into the pillow and wails.

Stormer wants desperately, for a moment, to gather Jerrica up in her arms and kiss her better. Sweetness, tenderness, mutual comfort, the Hologram way.

The Hologram way is white weddings and pure, chaste friendship and heterosexual kisses goodnight at the end of an evening at the movies and, when it comes down to it, Stormer supposes she is a Misfit at core.

“Stormer? Do you love me? Even a little?” Jerrica's voice is hopeful, as if a yes will make all of this better.

“I love your sister. But I can’t have her.” She sighs. “Don't worry, I’m not going to tell anyone. Not now, and not next time. And there will be a next time. Only next time, _you_ will call me. You will call me and beg me to fuck you again, because you know I will.” She drops a cold kiss on Jerrica’s hair. “You’re not Kimber, but I do truly value your friendship, Jerrica.” Stormer wonders if Rio ever tells Jerrica the same thing, about Jem.

She stands up. “Oh, when I say anyone, I really mean Rio, Kimber, whoever Kimber is marrying today. I do have one exception.”

She’s still fully dressed and ready to go out. No one could see the aching emptiness between her legs. Only Jerrica is bare, pulling a sheet up towards her, trying to cover her high breasts marked with Stormer's teeth.

“I'm sorry, Jerrica, but I have to go. I have an appointment with Eric to discuss some changes to my contract.”


End file.
